Ecto-Psychological Endeavor
by BananaSpice
Summary: Shanilla is an up and coming Ecto-Psychologist who just found herself with a new troublesome patient. One former pop-star, Billy Joe Cobra.
1. Session One (Part1)

_**Request:** Can you write where Shanilla has a gift to see and hear ghosts and helps them to cross over, but then she meets Billy who just died and is very confused about being a ghost._

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"So," Shanilla decided to start the session, reclining in her comfy chair while her ghostly patient floated a few inches above the nearby couch. Her parents had been thrilled when she'd gone into the field of psychology. But, as it was to be expected, they were much less thrilled when they discovered the reasoning for it. After all, it's not exactly something you can brag about at the dinner table with distinguished guests for foreign affairs. _"Have you met my daughter? She's an ecto-psycologist!"_ the thought alone was enough to bring a chuckle to mind, but Shanilla held her tongue. Now was certainly not the time. "You're the ghost of late pop-star, Billy Joe Cobra, is that correct?" She questioned deciding to start simple. Some ghosts, she'd found, didn't remember who they had been before they died. Memories of a rather annoying man, affectionately refereed to as "the box ghost" came to mind but were brushed aside at her current patient's reply.

"Uh, yeah. Didn't you hear me say that already?" Billy answered with a visible pouting scowl directed at her.

"Just covering the basics Mr. Cobra."

"Eww!" Billy spat his newly given title and stuck his tongue out dramatically. "That's not even CLOSE to cool, brojane. Call me Billy. Or BJC. Heck, the Cobra even! But definitely not that!"

Shanilla gave a soft hum and made a few notes on her pad. "Is that because it was a title preferred by your father figure or legal guardian?"

Billy's brow rose a bit confused as he reclined in the air above the couch. "Uh… No. It just sounds gross. Real lamesauce. I mean really! Who wants to be called "Mr. Cobra? Not me that's for sure." The ex-popstar was certain to punctuate his statements with dramatic arm flailing and gestures, one of his many quirks that Shanilla was sure to discover if their sessions continued. "Besides, every Cobrahead worth their salt would know BJC is just my stage name."

The scribbling pencil stilled in Shanilla's hand. "Oh? Is that so? I suppose I won't count myself as a Cobrahead then. What would your real name be then?" She pried casually, pencil at the ready.

Instead of simply telling her, Billy stretched his arm to the bookshelf on the opposite side of the room and pulled down a large encyclopedia, dropping it in her lap a split second later with a curt "Educate yourself."

Shanilla's expression pinched into a thoughtful frown before deciding to flip through the book. Another question escaping her lips as she did so. Just because she was looking through the encyclopedia didn't mean Billy could get off questions free. They only had half an hour to find out if he even needed these sessions or not after all. "So, when did you become aware of the fact that you were dead?"


	2. Session One (Part2)

_Since I can't just add this to the end of the first chapter and the readers know about it, I have to post it as a new one. Ahh well! I found some inspiration again! woo!_

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"Wait, what?" Billy dropped a few inches closer to the couch and snapped his attention to his hands as if only just realizing they were there. "Oh man, when did that happen?!"

Shanilla's eyes snapped from the encyclopedia and onto her current ghostly patient. Was he kidding, or was he really that confused? The ecto-psychologist quickly scribbled a few notes on her pad. "So you weren't aware you were dead, Billy?" She questioned preferring to use an actual name than the other nickname options he'd given her.

A horrified look crossed the ghostly pop-star's face. "I mean... I knew I was a ghost but. I can't be dead!"

"Billy... How do you think someone becomes a ghost?" Shanilla asked gently already having decided that Billy Joe Cobra would likely be needing a LOT of psychological assistance if he was ever going to pass on.

Billy was looking significantly freaked out, eyeing different parts of himself in obvious fear. "I dunno man! I dunno!"

At the rising panic coming from the ghost, Shanilla set her pad and pencil down and held her hands out in a 'I mean you no harm' gesture. This was definitely a topic that was going to need a bit more care to breach. After all, a panicking ghost usually lead to lots of collateral damage. "It's okay, it's okay. Calm down, Billy. Why don't you tell me about some of your songs, or your music career?" And just like that the almost panic attack ended.

Almost as if hitting a switch, Billy was right back to his cocky super-star personality he'd come in to the session with, not even noticing when he floated back up into the air about the couch. This would definitely be one of her harder cases. Shanilla let Billy rant for the last ten minutes of the session before guiding him out. "I'd like you to come back again tomorrow at the same time, okay Billy?"

"You got it, babe." Billy answered in a failed attempt at suave, finger pistols aimed at Shanilla.

She pretended she didn't notice. "Do you have a place to stay?"

"Duh, I live in the Cobra Mansion! Of course I have a place to stay!" Billy snorted almost insulted, believing her to be insinuating he was homeless.

"A-alright then. See you tomorrow." Shanilla waved before closing the door and shaking her head. The Cobra mansion had been passed to Billy's next-of-kin three weeks ago. It was sometimes a shame that ghosts didn't often form immediately after their death, usually forming in a location that had been important to them during their life a few days or even weeks after their deaths. It was probably for the best though. Her job would have been about a hundred times harder if her patients had been witness to their own dead corpse. She just hoped that Billy's family wouldn't clash to much with their resident ghost until Shanilla could ease him into the next life.


	3. Mansion Sweet Mansion

_Billy meets his new house guest._

_Woops! Meant to post this Tuesday. But it's testing time in school, finals all around! So enjoy some meeting of the bros for your end of semester woes!_

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**Chapter 2: Mansion Sweet Mansion**

To up and coming horror helmer, Spencer Wright, the shock and surprise of becoming the sole owner of the personal mansion of the late Billy Joe Cobra, was only over shadowed by the fact that he was actually related to the former pop-star in the first place. His mom had assured him that she had been the famous diva's distant cousin and that they were Billy's last living relatives which, while cool to know, would have been a lot cooler to know BEFORE Billy had kicked the bucket. The sheer number of casting possibilities he could have gotten with family favors from BJC was depressing now that they were no longer possible.

Still, Spencer Wright wasn't one to dwell on the 'could have been's, and instead decided to explore his new mansion. He'd expected his parents, or at least his sister Jessica to argue about who would get ownership of the house, but since he'd missed the will reading and the divvying up of Billy's remaining possessions, he didn't know what else had caught his family's eye over the weird and not likely up to fire code building. But it was the perfect blend of weird and (when the lights were off) creepy to give an edge to a few new home movies he'd been thinking up, so Spencer was more than happy with it. It had taken three weeks to get everything arranged and forwarded and moved in. Tonight would be Spencer's first night actually getting to sleep in Casa Cobra.

Camcorder in hand, Spencer moved through the house, having left the majority as is from when he moved in, it was almost surreal all the BJC memorabilia decorating everything. "Guess he was his own biggest fan." Spencer couldn't help giving a chuckle while he examined the foyer, filming the countless photos on the walls, before moving to a room filled with Tiki statues and an indoor waterfall.

"Freaky Tiki Room?" Spencer asked with a raised brow not even needing to see the map of the house to guess what this room would have been called. "Well Billy certainly had some odd tastes, I'll give him that."

The rest of his video tour went along the same lines. Whether it was the living room, "Is that a bowling ball on the ceiling?", or the studio, "Jeez, I never realized how many platinum albums he had." until all that was left was the third floor bedroom.

Earlier during the move, Spencer had claimed the room for his own leaving it severely altered from it's former state. Knowing this, the young director shut off his camera before getting in the elevator.

Spencer almost dropped his camera on the hard elevator floor when the doors opened to reveal the room exactly a it had been before he moved in, all his added belongings now piled haphazardly in the corner. "Huh?!"

To say that Billy was mad would be an understatement. He was flat-out full blown furious! Here he was, ghostly for a day, and SOMEBODY thinks they can move into HIS room and wreak up the place! Filling it with, dare he even think it?, HORROR memorabilia!

So it was an obvious assumption that the late, great Cobra would chuck the freaky grotesque things into the corner of the room and put everything back the way it was supposed to be. He would have honestly thrown the creepy spooky stuff much farther away from his person, but for some reason he was having trouble opening the windows. Oh well. As long as his room was back in order, Billy considered it a win for the Cobra.

The ghostly pop-star was reclining, read: floating, victoriously over his bed when the elevator dinged and a shocked gasp of "Huh?!" grabbed his attention.

"Oh! So you're the one who's been trashin' the Cobra's crib! NOT cool broseph!" Billy accused, pointing dramatically at the tall brunette who was entering the room cautiously.

No response was made.

Billy's accusing finger drooped and he frowned. "Are you... ignoring me?"

"Oh man..." The young man cautiously stepped around the room wide shocked eyes quickly morphing into unbridled excitement when he tuned his camcorder on. "Okay! So I fixed this room up two days ago." he spoke to the camera. "No one has been in the house but me all this time, but somehow, all my things have been tossed in the corner and the room is redecorated how it used to be. Coincidence? Or haunting?"

Billy gave a shudder at the way the only living person in the room said the word 'haunting'. "Duuuude, don't say stuff like that! You're freaking me out..." The former pop-star whined, but was once again ignored. When the video narrative started in again, Billy took it as the last straw. "That's it! Nobody ignores the Cobra!" Without thinking, the ghost grabbed the closest thing to him, luckily jut his pillow, and chucked it at the intruder, whapping him right in the face.

Spencer's excitement nearly tripled when a pillow adorned with Billy Joe Cobra's face on it, flew into his face with enough force to make him stumble a bit. "Woah! It's still here!" He panned the camera over the room, hoping to find something he couldn't see with his own eyes. But this seemed to only anger his new-found specter even more, as without warning, he was hit in the back of the head with a shoe. Then a heavy duty alarm clock barely crested the top of his skull. A shirt, a magazine, a few figurines and a Famey award all arched towards him some missing, others making their mark. The Famey actually managed to knock his camera out of his hands. "Dude! Chill! I come in peace!" Spencer called to the open air, hoping to calm down the angered spirit and maybe find out what it's deal was. Or maybe get some awesome footage of it.

When an uncannily well aimed pair of sunglasses somehow landed on his face, Spencer gave a start and whipped around to face the bed as an angry voice reached him in mid rant.

"-So famous even the ground I walk on could sell for a small fortune! SO STOP IGNORING-"

"B-Billy?!"


	4. Welcome, My Bromighost

_A bit of bonding, mostly filler!  
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**Chapter 3: Welcome, My Bromighost**

"Oh man, I can't believe I'm hanging out with to a real live ghost!" Spencer gushed unable to help himself. It had been less than an hour since introductions had been made between the living and recently deceased residents of the Cobra Mansion, and the excitement hadn't worn off yet.

Billy reclined in the air above the kitchen table waiting for snacks to be made, preening over the praise and excitement of his apparently distant cousin, Spencer Wright. "I can't believe peanut butter isn't actual butter. But life does tend to spring surprises on ya." The former pop-star answered with a casual shrug, playing it cool.

Spencer snorted at the ridiculous comment as he slapped the top slice of bread over the peanut butter sandwich Billy had near begged him to make upon realizing he couldn't keep himself solid long enough to make it himself. "Can you even eat this? You are pretty intangible after all."

"Pfft! Puh-lease, I THINK I can handle a PB sandwich." Billy snapped, swiping the aforementioned treat from his cousin and eating it in a single bite. "See?"

Spencer just stood grinning like a lunatic. "This is so awesome..." He pulled his camera out and aimed it at Billy with a frown. "If only I knew how these glasses are letting me see you. I could fix up my camera and get some actual ghost footage." As if to emphasis his next point, Spencer pulled the sunglasses off his face and examined them. "They just look like regular sunglasses to me." He commented, sliding them back on so he'd be able to catch Billy's next comment.

"They're not REGULAR sunglasses, they're the Cobra's sunglasses." Billy sassed, a pair of sunglasses identical to the ones Spencer was wearing appeared on Billy's face long enough for him to adjust them like the star he was, posing for imaginary paparazzi photos before vanishing without a trace.

The grin on Spencer's face near doubled in size as he took a mental note of the random minor outfit alteration, wondering what else Billy could do now that he was a ghost. An unexpected yawn cut him off before he could ask and his eyes traveled to the clock. "Oh jeez, it's almost midnight!" He yawned again and slumped finally feeling how tired he was through his former adrenaline rush. "Guess we'll have to chat more later, Billy." Spencer stood from the table and quickly put away the sandwich fixings. "Time for bed."

"Awwwwwww! But I'm not even tired yet!" Billy whined like a toddler giving the most pitiful puppy dog pout he could muster.

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Dude, you're a ghost. I don't even know if you could get tired. But I'm still living and I need my sleep. So I'm gonna go to bed. Can you please be quite?"

"Daw, fine! But only because I've got somewhere to be tomorrow."

"Somewhere to be?" Spencer raised a brow curious where on earth a ghost could be needing to go besides the obvious of 'passing on'.

"Mmhmm! If you weren't so 'tired' I might have told you. But no! Go to bed! Leave me all alone in the dark!" Billy heaped on the drama and angst, even adding the actions as if he were on a soap opera, which likely could have been one of his movie roles as far as Spencer knew. "I'll just be here! WAITING!"

The excessively tired human only rolled his eyes before closing the elevator doors. "Goodnight Billy."

As if only just realizing where Spencer planned to sleep that night Billy cut his act short and gave a sharp gasp of horror, bolting up through the ceiling and into his bedroom to cut Spencer off as the elevator opened to let him out. "Who said you could sleep in MY room?!"

Spencer gave a groan, having thought their last hour of friendliness had gotten Billy off his back about the bedroom. "Billy, come on. I didn't change any other rooms in the house, this is the only one with a bed that you can't even use anymore. Just let me sleep."

"And leave me to sleep on the couch? Or the Freaky Tiki room?! I don't think so!"

Groaning Spencer ran his hands through his hair in growing, tired, irritation of the over dramatic ghost. "I just need to sleep in a bed. I never said you couldn't stay in here too, Billy."

From the face Billy made, one would have thought Spencer bought him all the peanut butter in the world. "Really Spence? You mean it?!"

Hey, if it would let him get some sleep. "Sure, Billy."

"Yeah-hooo! I call top bunk!"

"Wha-? but there isn't a-!" Spencer shut his mouth watching Billy float above the bed as if there actually was a bunk bed on top of it.

"You say something Spence?" Billy asked innocently, snuggling under a blanket with his face on it, and holding a teddy bear (also wearing BJC garb) close.

"Ah... No, nothing. Don't worry about it." Spencer shook his head with an amused smile and slipped into the actual bed. "Goodnight Billy."

"Night, Spencer!" Billy called back, somehow stretching his arm to the wall and flicking off the bedroom lights so they could both sleep. His own body providing a bright enough glow that he didn't even notice the lack of his usual nightlight.


	5. Ghosts Don't Need Sunglasses

_Dress up time for Spencer._

_I had a glorious plan for this chapter and everything, but when I went to type it I couldn't get anything to come out how I wanted! So here's what ya get! Enjoy._

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**Chapter 4: Ghosts Don't Need Sunglasses**

Shanilla was a bit taken aback by Billy's attitude throughout the session. She'd expected an angered spirit who'd be ranting about people moving into his home, or maybe a saddened Billy coming to terms with the fact he was now dead and gone. But no, not even in the slightest. Billy had spent the last half hour going on and on about the most ridiculous of things, every few sentences coming back around to the ghost's new housemate. His unknown cousin, a horror movie director, Spencer Wright. The ecto psychologist had been shocked to learn that not only was Spencer able to see Billy, he wanted the ghost to stick around too. This definitely wasn't good. Everyone knew a ghost who didn't pass on became an unruly and dangerous poltergeist. This was the entire reason Shanilla's job was even a thing. If she failed with Billy, then she'd have no choice but to call in the ghost hunters.

"Billy." Shanilla called out softly cutting off his tangent about peanut butter sandwiches. "Our time is almost up for this session. But I want you to come back in tomorrow. Do you think you could bring your cousin with you?"

Billy blinked at the odd request but took it in stride. "Sure thing, Brojane! I bet Spencil'd love to meet somebody else who can see me. He's weird like that."

A noncommittal "hmm" was Shanilla's response. Considering Billy had only known Spencer for a day, she highly doubted he knew the living man well enough to make a claim like that. Still, if she could get Spencer in to the next session, she could hopefully convince him of what would happen to Billy's soul if not allowed to pass on to the next life. One could only hope.

"What's up Billy? Where've ya been?" Spencer asked looking up from his computer as his dead cousin entered the bedroom through the wall. The sudden movement jostled the sunglasses he hadn't taken off except to sleep since the two had discovered Spencer could only see Billy while wearing them.

Billy casually reclined in the air with a cocky grin. "Why? Did ya miss me Spency?"

Spencer shook his head and smirked. "Oh yeah, because it's so hard to get anything done without an obnoxious popstar chattering in my ear." The living man pondered how it was possibly that a late night and morning with the ghost had gotten them to the point it felt like they'd been friends for years.

"I knew you'd miss me!" Billy chimed in completely missing the sarcasm. "Don't worry broseph! That Ecto-Psycho babe wants you to come with me tomorrow."

"Ecto-psycho babe? Yeah THAT doesn't send up any red flags." Spencer rolled his eyes as he got to his feet, and stretched. His files saved, and Billy accounted for, now it was time to do some sleuthing. "So! Ready to get to the bottom of this sunglasses thing?" During their chatting this morning, Spencer had brought up the mystery of the sunglasses and Billy assured him that he'd NEVER seen ghosts while wearing them when he was alive. So the question was, why did the glasses let Spencer see Billy, and was there an alternative to them? The young director really hoped so. Wearing sunglasses indoors really wasn't his thing.

In an instant Billy was garbed like a stereotypical Sherlock Holmes detective, a giant magnifying glass pressed to his eye. "Bring on the mystery!" Spencer made a mental note to investigate Billy's random shape shifting powers next.

"Okay! So we already know that I can see you while wearing these sunglasses." Spencer gestured to the glasses currently on his face. "Now we need to find out why. Is it the lenses? Can all sunglasses let you see ghosts? 'Cause that would be really cool, but then there'd be a LOT more ghosts sightings that there are." Spencer rambled.

"Guess there's only one way to find out!" Billy gave a grin and started swiping sunglasses from random places in the room, dropping the collection on the bed. Some were his when he'd been alive, the others (the less cool ones, he thought) were Spencer's. "Start tryin' glasses!"

The trying on part was pretty self explanatory. Spencer would try on each pair of glasses, tossing the ones that didn't let him see Billy to the side and piling the ones that worked next to him. By the time he'd tried all the pairs, all of his sunglasses had been ruled out. Only Billy's worked.

Of course this brought up as many questions as it answered. "Why would only your Sunglasses let me see you?" Spencer thought out loud eyeing the pile of ridiculously decorative eye wear.

"Hey, Cobra gear is obviously the best gear. Of course you can see ghosts with it!" Billy bragged, thoughtlessly rolling his head back and forth across his arms and shoulders like a ball.

It took Spencer a minute to respond due to the distraction. Was Billy even aware of what he as doing? Then Billy's comment hit him. "Hey... Maybe it's because it IS your gear! We should try some other stuff, do you have a closet or something?"

The ghost gave a scoff. "Do I have a closet." His arm stretched out behind him then jerked forward dragging a long clothing rack out from apparently nowhere, and fully into the room.

"Okay, eventually I'm gonna have to start asking about stuff like this." Spencer quipped as Billy did yet another unexplainable thing.

"Stuff like what?" Billy asked honestly not knowing what Spencer was talking about.

The living man gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head before digging around in the clothes on the rack. "Never mind."

As Spencer had suspected, his theory proved true. Any item of Billy's he tried on allowed him to see the ghost. Whether it be shirt or coat, jeans or shoes. He had no interest in attempting to try the underwear, that was one thing he'd rather not care to test, but hats and accessories seemed to work too. Eventually he settled on a rather nondescript watch he'd managed to find in the mess of Halloween costume rejects that Billy called clothes.

"Okay, now I can see you, and see the everything else inside too." Spencer joked glad he didn't have to spend the rest of his time in the Cobra mansion wearing sunglasses.

"Brodacious!" Billy gave a fist pump and shoved the clothing rack back to the mysterious place from whence it came. "Wanna watch a movie?!" Billy didn't realize until after the movie started just what a horrible suggestion that was.


End file.
